WORDS
My thin black words
on this cold white page
can’t breathe, won’t bleed,
don’t whimper in the dark;
impotent fossils, barren husks,
dropped spoor.
Not the real thing at all,
not the rustle in the weeds
nor the shrill screech
of the wild boar.
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NANMYKEL.COM 
Nan… what an amazing poem! I have been wondering what you’ve been up to! So good to see your face pop up. 😉
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Good to hear from you, too. Every time I g to my Media page I’m enjoying a copy of your eyes collage–or did I already tell you? I rear-ended smeone and totalled my car so I have more time for my blog (It’s like being snowbound, bu it’s no-car bound). Glad you liked the poem or, as they say on d’Verse, quadrlle.
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This is so true. But we keep trying to use words to share our experiences and we rejoice when there is the least bit of truth.
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Once the words are read they are revived in the reader but with strange transformations.
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Yes, it does depend on the reader, doesn’t it. I’d overlooked that. Thanks, Fank.
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Oh yes, you’re right. Thank you.
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I mean Frank! 🙂
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But just like sticks pulled together might catch fire the same happens with words in a poem
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Good point! Thanks
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Nice one, Nan.I love those images of things left behind, and then the power of the “real thing”. But I think you capture something real.
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Thanks, Sarah. I appreciate your feedback!
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I see what you mean, Nan! Yes, we are spot on the same wavelength here, even if yours is a more tumultuous picture 🙂
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(Smile) Tumultuous is a good word. A kind word, too!
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It’s a word I like 🙂
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Stunning …. the words just reach out and grab you, and you fall into the pleasure and pain of working through this …. but it reads like a manifesto, a call of the wild – how delightful 🙂
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Golly, Wildchild! I think I’m gonna frame this feedback. Thank you!
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my pleasure 🙂
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Only the mind can resurrect all those words and make them live! Nice!
Dwight
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Thanks so much for the feedback, Dwight!
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I think you have topped all of your poems with this one. It is so so good!!!!
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Bless you! Thanks, Bethany.
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Your words are evocative, Nan. BUT, for armchair travelers, sometimes the “black words on dry white page” transport us to places we’ll never see.
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Yes, and for some of us in places we don’t want to see we only have to close the book. I have been extremely moved by things others write (or paint), but on my end there’s often frustration that I can’t manage to be heard. We can’t be in therapy all our lives, unfortunately.
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